


Coming Home on a Whim and a Prayer

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Ficlet Omens [23]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley's Bentley (Good Omens), Discorporated Aziraphale (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, The drive to Tadfield Airbase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:21:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25676518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: A little thing like his Bentley streaming infernal fire from every crease wasn't going to stop him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ficlet Omens [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620217
Comments: 5
Kudos: 98





	Coming Home on a Whim and a Prayer

Home was never a place. Not to a demon who might be sent all over the world on a moment's notice. Not ever to a demon who had once had a place he thought was home and then lost it for asking too many questions. No, his home now was a person.

And that person, lost, stolen, and strayed into Heaven (and then coming back, like an unlooked for miracle) had asked him to come to Tadfield Airbase.

A little thing like his Bentley streaming infernal fire from every crease wasn't going to stop him. Just a few decades ago, in World War II, plane pilots had often come home trailing fire and smoke - coming home on a wing and a prayer, they called it - when they came home at all.

Now, Crowley turned up the Best of Queen, cranked his imagination to the limit, and headed for the airbase, like those pilots. Heard for miles, he might be. Seen for miles, he might be. If that meant his angel saw or heard him coming and gathered up the shards of lost hope for one last time, it was worth it.

There was nothing left in him to care about Hell knowing. If they hadn't known before he discorporated Hastur, they certainly did now. Without his angel, there was nothing worth living for anyway, nothing left to call home.

He held on even as the tyres melted out from under him, and the Bentley was more flame than metal, coming home on a whim and a prayer, until he finally roared to a standstill outside the airbase.

" _Crowley!_ " A breath launched at his heart like the prayers he'd lost.

Yes, he thought, hauling himself out of the flames and into strides that were as much stagger as saunter, _now_ he was home.


End file.
